


the night before it all ends

by Chromathesia



Series: acoc fics by chrom [3]
Category: A Crown of Candy - Fandom, Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Violence, prince consort calroy au, so perhaps it is less.... legible? than most fics?, this was written in the throes of spiraling and in the middle of a conversation about this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25431610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromathesia/pseuds/Chromathesia
Summary: The war will be over tomorrow. Tonight, it is in its final death throes. It hums in their bones. It is strange that it is over. And in those final moments before peace, Sir Theobald Gumbar has a question for his King.
Relationships: Calroy Cruller/Amethar Rocks
Series: acoc fics by chrom [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782913
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	the night before it all ends

**Author's Note:**

> This sat in my Google Docs for a while and then I remembered it existed and decided to throw it on here because. Why not.

“The trial is tomorrow, your majesty.” (he doesn't call it the execution)

“Thank you, Theo.”

A silence between them. Perhaps it’s the tinnitus from the sounds of warfare, perhaps it’s the company, but the air rings in the room, loud enough to drown out thoughts besides those at the very surface.

“If I may, your majesty--”

“Whatever, Theo. You can say whatever.” He does not reference that Theobald is a knight. The familiarity of the address rings hollowly in Theobald’s stomach. It bounces off of his armor and echoes through him, as though he was simply his armor, nothing more (and that is what he wanted to be, at one point-- an extension of Amethar’s armor, another body to throw in front of him to ensure he lived, there was no better way to honor his king than being a shield) (that was once upon a time) (the time is gone).

“Why?”

A single word, pregnant with meaning, with subtext, with… (hurt? disgust? whining?) (no, something else) (something that Theobald himself doesn’t know how to describe) (perhaps the best word is longing)

Theobald remembers the dull feeling of Battlepop between his hands, slamming down on the man now in shackles in the room just down the hall (he should be in the dungeons) (he should be dead). He remembers the warm-wet of splatter that found its way beneath his armor. He remembers the grunts and the muffled sounds of bones breaking. He remembers abandoning Swirlwarden at the doorway. He remembers being shoved to the ground, pushed away with barely a second thought. He remembers King Amethar, first of his name, bending over to check the pulse of the broken body that Theobald had been desecrating before carefully picking him up and walking out of the door.

He hadn’t even looked at Theobald, then.

That ringing silence returns. Amethar is still staring at the wall, where a tapestry once hung. Theobald remembers it clearly: glittering fuchsias and lavenders delicately woven together, a combined tribute to both House Rocks and House Cruller. The banner that had hung behind their heads at the high table.  _ Them _ , woven into physical symbol. 

In another life, just last year, Theobald had stood in front of it, rigidly, at attention, and had hated it.

Amethar had taken it down earlier that day. Somehow it hadn’t been destroyed in the first sacking, but it was now, carefully sliced to strips by Payment Day and bound around the limbs that Theobald had broken and the wounds that he had opened. 

Theobald had bled openly until just an hour ago, when the bloodstains were cleaned up with a rag and warm cola and his cuts were allowed to scab over.

“He was my husband.” (and you were not) (it’s not said) (but they both fill that part in)

Theobald stiffly bows his head slightly. “Your majesty,” he says before leaving. 

Amethar is staring at the wall. He does not watch Theobald go.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Twitter](twitter.com/chromathesia) and [Tumblr](chromathesia.tumblr.com).


End file.
